Bitter Healing
by phannah17
Summary: His coffee was wretched.He scowled down at the offending drink before taking another sip despite its putrid taste. He supposed he should just get used to everything being bitter, even himself. Because he was. Draco/Astoria - every story has a beginning.


**AN:** _So I was wondering over how Astoria and Draco may have ever gotten together, considering that there wasn't any mention of her, that I can recall, in the books. This is my completely random version of how they may have started something. Let me know what you think!_

* * *

His coffee was wretched.

He scowled down at the offending drink before taking another sip, despite its putrid taste. He supposed he should just get used to everything being bitter, even himself.

Because he was.

"Stupid Potter," he mumbled half-heartedly, staring out the window with a rather vacant gaze. A woman, obviously muggle, chased after her small child with an exasperated expression. He fleetingly realized how often he had seen the very same thing occurring within wizarding families. There was something mildly interesting about the fact that the supposedly superior race had the same difficulties with children that muggles did. Perhaps it was something worth noting.

He was thinking too much again.

That was Potter's fault as well, he thought with another scowl. Ever since the Dark Lord had been defeated he had found himself wondering more about what he had been taught. What if it had all been wrong? What if there wasn't a superior race? What if purebloods were no better than mudbloods?

He frowned, the lines on his forehead creasing as he took another sip. Even if the answers to each of those questions weren't the ones he would prefer, it no longer mattered. All that mattered now was that Potter and his friends had won and if he, a Malfoy, wished to survive in this new world, he had to accept that people such as Hermione Granger were his equal.

Or at least, he thought with a sneer as he remembered the bushy haired girl, pretend to.

"That expression does nothing for your looks, you know."

He glanced up, a scowl automatically developing as he met the gaze of a petite blonde with bright blue eyes. She smiled prettily, something he ignored, and took a seat across from him.

She tilted her head to the side as he continued scowling, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "That one doesn't do much for you either."

"Who are you?" He demanded rudely, immensely displeased with the chit.

She stared at him, a mock aghast expression descending on her features. "Don't tell me you don't remember me, Draco!" A hand fluttered to her heart while a mischievous smirk tugged at her lips. "And here I thought we had something special."

He glared, aggravation rising within him. "I have no time for your petty games."

She laughed lightly, a sound that reminded him of the church bells he had once heard the only time his family had ventured into muggle London. "Right," she responded with a grin, "I forgot how oh-so-busy you are."

When his scowl deepened, she continued with a bit less derision. "I'm Astoria. Astoria Greengrass. Ah there we go," she said with another smile as recognition dawned on his features. "I knew you had to remember me at some point."

He did remember her, vaguely. Daphne's sister, he thought as he studied her. A few years younger, but relatively the same in looks. They both had pale complexions, though not nearly as pale as his own, and wheat colored hair mixed with light blue eyes. Almost porcelain like, he thought with little admiration. He had found that, as of late, women were one of the last things on his mind. How he was going to bring respect back to the Malfoy name had been his primary focus.

"Everyone hates you, you know," she said in a rather conversational tone.

His grip on the glass of coffee tightened dangerously as his eyes flashed. "Do you think I care?"

She waited a moment, the silence between them stifling before replying. "Yes," she said slowly, as if considering her words, her eyes unexpectedly understanding. "I think you care very much."

"And whatever gave you that impression?" He had hoped the question would hold an underlying fury that would frighten her off, or a cold disdain for the subject. Instead his voice was oddly weary, a tinge of curiosity and sadness laced within it.

She smiled softly, absentmindedly pushing some of her hair out her face. "Do you really want to know?"

He nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly as he observed the girl across from him with a newfound interest.

She waited a moment, before beginning, the oddly knowing expression once again on her face. "You cried at Vincent's funeral because even though you never treated him especially well he was one of your best friends, one of your only friends. Gregory hasn't been the same since then so in all actuality you lost both your best friends that day. I know that Pansy disappeared exactly one year ago and ever since then you've been coming to the muggle store, watching all of the people around you, but never once approaching any of them. I know that the last time you saw Potter you shook his hand and avoided insulting Weasley. I also know that you opened the door for Hermione Granger when you came into the ministry several days ago."

She smiled at his bewildered expression. "I'm her assistant. Keeping tabs on you is one of her jobs." At his frown she nodded, as if having proved her point. "And that bothers you because you don't want to be someone that they're keeping tabs on. You want to be respected and a smaller part of you craves to be liked because you, Draco Malfoy, are _lonely_."

He stared uncomprehendingly at the girl in front of him, one part of him demanding that he deny everything she had just said and shove her out of the store. Another part though, a slightly larger part, was only baffled at how she knew. He had never once, in all his years, told another soul about the continual annoying ache of loneliness that seemed to attack him at the worst times. The truth of the matter was that his parents had always been too busy being followers, his 'friends' slightly too dimwitted, and his supposed girlfriend entirely too vapid to ever quell that ache.

Silence reigned between them, not an entirely uncomfortable one, before she abruptly stood up. He watched her with curiosity as she leaned over to give his hand a quick squeeze, that same soft smile on her face. She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "When I said everyone, I didn't mean myself."

"What?" He questioned quietly, momentarily forgetting what she could be referring to from their conversation.

Her lips curved upwards again in a gesture that was rather appealing. He had to stop his own from curving in response as she began speaking. "_I_ don't hate you."

She lingered for a moment, her expression pensive, before, with those four words she vacated the tiny muggle café, leaving him sitting there with his all too bitter coffee.

He stared after her disappearing form, a sudden burst of something indefinable rising up within him. For the first time in a very long time he felt some of that ache receding, something like hope replacing it as he watched her hair shining in the sunlight.

Standing up, he dumped the horrid coffee in the garbage.

Perhaps he was not entirely bitter after all.


End file.
